Fade to Present
by Thalia Kendall
Summary: Percy Weasley reflects upon the past, the present, and how his sister used to be... a mildly angsty one-shot about siblings growing apart.


A/N: Written as a 'memory' for an rpg… this is Percy, reflecting upon the past and the present, and how his sister had changed through the year. Just a _tiny_ bit angsty ~_^.

Disclaimer: Guh… if you spend more time reading disclaimers than my actual work, I will be very upset with you.

_*~*_ Fade to Present_*~*_

  
  
Percy's first memory of his little sister was… when he was five years old. Mummy had been feeling ill, and she had gone to St. Mungo's.   
  
Mummy had returned the next day with a small pink bundle in her arms, and smiling. And there was a tiny tuft of red hair at the top of the bundle. Daddy had called everyone into the living room… and with a grin on his face, told all of them that they had a baby sister. They had all crowded up towards Mummy and the pink bundle, and the little pink face that peeked out of the blankets opened a rosebud mouth and let out a high-pitched wail.  
  
The others had recoiled at the sound, and Charlie had frowned. "She's so _loud!_"  
  
But five-year-old Percy had looked at the now-crying pink bundle, then at Mummy, who was still smiling, and then at the others, and solemnly, he whispered in Mummy's ear. "Fred and George are louder… so I think we can keep her after all."  
  
Mummy had smiled and held out the pink bundle to him, and he had looked at the baby's face, where there were already freckles dusting her tiny nose. "What's her name?"  
  
"Virginia," Daddy had answered with a large grin, "But we will call her Ginny."  
  
"Ginny is nice."

***

  
  
Ginny's first word, when she was ten months old, was 'tree'. Well, the tiny girl said it more like 'tee', but she had pointed at the big weeping willow outside the window with a chubby little finger when she had said it, and Percy had laughed a little bit.  
  
"Tree, not 'tee'," he had solemnly informed the baby.  
  
"Tee! Tee! Tee!" Ginny had burbled, waving her small hands in the air, giggling happily. And Percy, despite knowing that she was saying it wrong, had laughed.   
  
"All right, Gin… 'tee'."

***

  
  
Percy remembers Mr. Quackers, the stuffed plushie duck that Ginny got for her first birthday from their father. The duck was bright, cheerful yellow and had black eyes and an orange beak. Mr. Quackers had been one of their father's purchases from a Muggle store, and when batteries were put into its belly, it could really quack whenever it was hugged. Ginny loved Mr. Quackers… and after she'd learnt to walk, would toddle around the house, one chubby little arm wrapped around the duck. Mr. Quackers faded to the color of vanilla ice cream, his beak and feet dingy, after countless washings. And the batteries died away and no one remembered to put in any new ones, but until she turned six, Ginny could never sleep without the duck.   
  
Even afterwards, when Mr. Quackers had been banished to the attic, little Ginny would sometimes go there… when she was sad, and find the dusty duck sitting amongst the other old, no-longer-used things of the past… and give the soft plushie a huge hug, to make her sadness go away.

***

  
  
When Ginny was about two-and-a-half, Mum had been busy teaching Percy how to read. It was _fascinating_, and Percy couldn't get his hands on enough books. He wanted to read everything, to everyone, and soon, even Mum grew tired of it. Somewhat exasperated, she had told him that she had to take care of all the children… he could go and read to someone else.  
  
So he went and read to little Ginny. A fairy tale with beautiful maidens and handsome princes and an evil stepmother, and the beautiful maiden lived happily ever after. It was called Cinderella, and though he stumbled over the words, so new to this hobby of reading, he would read to Ginny. And though she didn't understand everything in the story, she would clap her tiny hands and giggle and say "Happ'we ever af'er! Again!" And he would stumble over it again, and each time, he would know the words better.  
  
By the time she understood all the words in the story, he knew them by heart.  
  
And Ginny was the name of the princess who would live happily ever after.

***

  
  
By the time that Ginny was three, both Bill and Charlie were at Hogwarts, and Percy was the oldest child in the house. And he remembered Dad getting Mum a bunch of bright orange tiger lilies for her anniversary.  
  
Little Ginny had looked at the lilies, and, big brown eyes wide on her face, had lisped, "They have fweckles! Juth' wike me!"  
  
She had grinned a toothy wide grin then, before clasping her hands together and turning to father, "I want thome!"  
  
Dad had smiled, ruffled her fuzzy red hair and disappeared, returning a minute later with a bunch of bright, freckly tiger lilies, and handed them to the little girl, and she had promptly forgotten about her breakfast, even though Mum had made blueberry pancakes that morning, staring in awe at the pretty flowers.  
  
Mum had charmed them not to wilt for a month, and then had pressed them for little Ginny.  
  
The pressed lilies were immortalized in a cheap wooden frame, and Ginny kept them on her desk for years.  
  
Percy gave her lilies for her birthday every year.

***

  
  
Bill made Prefect when she was five… and came home at Christmas in a billow of black robes and a silver badge, grinning ear to ear. Ginny had been wide-eyed in wonder, and one evening, she had snuck into Bill's room, and gotten one of the large, black robes, as well as the badge. Little Ginny had crawled into the over-sized garment, and managed to stick her head out of the hole, though her arms were completely lost in the sleeves and the hem of the robes trailed behind her. She had stumbled around, parading in the robe, and when she came to the top of the stairs, she had seen Percy, who was halfway up, and she had grinned.  
  
"Wook, Perthy! I'm a Pwefect!"  
  
She had stumbled forward, and tripped over the hem. His eyes had widened, and he had instinctively held out his arms. Both of them tumbled a bit down the stairs, getting rather bruised. His glasses got broken… but she fell on top of him.  
  
She started to cry.  
  
"You okay, Ginny?" he asked, his vision rather blurry without his glasses, rubbing a bump on his head.  
  
"I bwoke your gwasses, Perthy!" She had a skinned knee, though otherwise she seemed unhurt, and she was pointing at the cracked lenses of the glasses that lay by his head.  
  
Percy sat up and gave the little girl, who was almost completely encased in black robes, a hug. She sniffled a bit and hugged back.  
  
"As long as nothing else is broken, it's fine."  
  
Nothing else was broken, and Mum fixed the glasses. And Ginny was happy again. She wore Bill's robes, with the sleeves rolled up and holding the hem in her hands like a princess holds her gown, and marched around the house, grinning and showing everyone that she was a Prefect.

***

  
  
Percy received his Hogwarts letter when she was six. He had been so very excited… Bill and Charlie had come home every vacation… with amazing stories of the classes, all the fascinating things they learnt… Quidditch… and all the teachers seemed so _smart_, even the one who Bill and Charlie said was a 'greasy git who hates all Gryffindors'.   
  
The night before, he had been unable to sleep, and was sitting in his room, reading Bill's old copy of Hogwarts, A History, trying to find out just everything there was to know about Hogwarts… when the door to his room opened, and little Ginny, clad in a frilly pink nightgown faded from many washings, had flung herself inside.  
  
"Oh Percy, I don't want you to go! Who's going to read to me when you're gone?" she had wailed, burying her face in his T-shirt, sniffling.  
  
They'd both cried a little, even though he was a big boy now, and then he had read to her from Hogwarts, A History. And she had wrinkled her little freckled nose and said that it was too complicated.  
  
She had given him a tight hug that almost cut off his breathing, before running back to her room and going to sleep.

***

  
  
She wrote to him…  
  
_Deer Percey,  
  
I hop that you are doing wel in skool. I miss you. Tell Bill and Charly I said hi. Are they being good? Bill and Charly are sumtims not good, but Mum says that you are good. I hop you are good.  
  
Are clases hard?  
  
Do the peepl play Qwidich? Did you see any gams yet? Are they fun?  
  
The twins hav ben bad agan. Mum is making them go to bed without diner becas they had ben playing arund with Dad's Mugl things agan and sumthing blu up.  
  
I miss you.   
  
Gin_  
  
The letters were written on scraps of parchment in a childish scrawl, replete with inkblots and scribbles and little pictures of the twins, Ron, herself… everyone. He still had a few… somewhere, the ink now brown with age and the parchment darkened from a pale beige to a waxy dark yellow.  
  
Her letters grew more articulate, with better spelling… but less personal as time went on.

***

  
  
By the time that Ginny started Hogwarts, Percy was almost all grown up. He was sixteen… and a Prefect. He had a girlfriend. And was busy with advanced classes and such. And perhaps Ginny realized this, for she no longer went to him with her problems. And when he did go and ask her if anything was wrong, she rebuffed him.   
  
It had changed… and he wasn't quite sure what to think about it. Perhaps he had changed… or perhaps she. But he, so smart in books and such, did not know what was the matter in this situation. He had grown apart… from her, and somehow from all of them.  
  
It saddened him vaguely… though he couldn't really explain it, and had no idea what he had done wrong. Or… whatever the reason was, how to fix it.  
  
All he knew was that Mum and Dad expected him to be responsible. And to take care of them. After all, by this time, Bill and Charlie were no longer in school. And Percy was good. And not reckless or mischievous. He would take care of her… of them… of everything.  
  
Or die trying.

***

  
  
And now, as Percy looked back at his sister, almost a woman and yet a child, pale, somewhat troubled, avoiding his eyes… he frowned somewhat. Somewhere, in a nebulous sort of way, he could still see glimpses of little Ginny in her. But… little Ginny was buried now, deep under something foreign and strangely aloof, and he didn't understand what or how or why.   
  
And it felt wrong, because he was smart Percy, and he was responsible Percy. And he should know her. And be able to keep anything bad from happening to her… or any of them.  
  
But things were not that simple, and all Percy could do was to hope that it would all be better someday.  
  
And that little Ginny would never be completely submerged in remoteness. There was already way too much to think about…

*~* Fin *~*


End file.
